


Reminders of Glaives and Scalpels

by FeralScribe



Series: Widomauk Week 2019 Prompts [8]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Allusion to Trauma, Don’t copy to another site, Empathy, M/M, Other, Post-rez Mollymauk, Scars, Secrets, Widomauk Week, bad memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-07
Updated: 2019-06-07
Packaged: 2020-04-12 08:24:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19128244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeralScribe/pseuds/FeralScribe
Summary: Molly is less than pleased with his new scar. Caleb reveals a secret to let him know he's not alone.





	Reminders of Glaives and Scalpels

Molly woke up with scars the first time. They bothered him until he learned about his powers, then they made sense and he learned to accept them. When Molly woke up with a new scar the second time, it does more than bother him. It repulses him. Not only is it ugly, but he remembers getting this one, and the memory is not pleasant. He is grateful that he had his memories at all this time. When the note said to go to Zadash he understood why, and he recognized the voices that cried out his name from the carriages that passed him on his way. It was a relief for everyone. However, part of him wishes he could have at least forgotten those last few minutes before the end.

The others notice the change in him. It’s not like he’s being subtle about it. One of the first things he did in Zadash was purchase a few shirts with collars high enough to cover his whole chest. He makes terrible jokes about his death, but the smiles and laughs that accompany them are too sharp, too forced. Dying was worth it to save them all. He has no regrets as far as that is concerned. He just fucking hates this new scar.

Yasha barely lets him out of her sight. She doesn’t ask him about coming out of the ground again and he doesn’t ask her about the Nest. They’ll both tell each other when the time is right. Molly appreciates her presence. He hugs her for every little thing and always stands close enough to reach out with his tail and find her when he needs comfort. She notices when he absentmindedly scratches his chest. It’s not that the scar itches; it’s as healed as it’s going to get. There’s just something about it that feels wrong and he has this impulse to scrape it away like a scab. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice he’s doing it until she puts her hand on his shoulder.

After a couple weeks of downtime in Zadash they prepare to head south. Jester misses her mom and there are enough whispers around the city about the growing conflict with Xhorhas that the Mighty Nein suspect they’ll be called to join the war any day now. Molly is excited for their trip because even though Zadash is nice and there’s plenty to see, he wants to go somewhere new. He’s getting complacent here, which means less time exploring and more time thinking, more time remembering. It’s awful.

The night before they’re supposed to leave, the Nein pool their funds to order the best room service the Pillow Trove has to offer. There are platters of fruits and cheeses, fine drinks, assorted pastries, and a succulent main course that they all share. Molly is having a wonderful time until he realizes he’s scratching his scar again. He smiles to hide his irritation. He hates this scar. They all know, but he doesn’t like drawing attention to it. Other than Yasha, only one person reacts to it. Caleb.

“Mister Mollymauk, may I speak to you privately for a moment?” he asks. His voice has that slight quaver to it that he gets when he’s not sure if he should be talking.

“Sure.” Molly pats Yasha on the head as he gets up and follows Caleb out into the hall. They go to the room Caleb has been sharing with Nott. When the door is shut behind them, Molly says, “Alright, Mister Caleb. You’ve got me alone. What’s on your mind?” As much as he would like it to be what’s on _his_ mind when he’s with Caleb sometimes, he gets the feeling that that’s not what this is about.

Caleb rubs his hand over his beard in contemplation. “Mollymauk, does— Does your scar hurt you?”

Molly shakes his head with a little shrug. “No.”

“I don’t mean physically. Does it hurt to think about?”

“Ah. Well…” Caleb is a smart man, and a skeptic to boot. Molly’s bullshit probably won’t work on him, but he can certainly try. “I mean, I don’t _like_ it. It’s off center. Completely throws off my look. I’ve been thinking of getting another to balance it out. What do you think?”

Caleb folds his arms. He scratches below his elbow. “I know a thing or two about scars,” he says quietly, eyes to the floor. “I know that even when they heal on the outside, you…you don’t necessarily heal on the inside as well.”

Molly suppresses the urge to feel for the outline of his scar through his shirt. “Not really,” he admits.

After a few seconds of silence, Caleb rocks back and forth. His forehead creases in discomfort. Molly is about to ask what’s wrong when Caleb holds up one arm. He unwinds the bandage, wincing as though the wound beneath it is still raw. The linen is clean, though, and the skin that peeks out little by little is whole, albeit very pale. As more and more is revealed, Molly notices the patches that don’t look right. They’re ever-so-slightly raised and a whiter shade of pale. And there are a lot of them.

“Please don’t ask about these,” Caleb says. “You always told us you didn’t care what we had done in the past, so please, don’t. I just… I wanted you to know you’re not the only one. You know, wh-who has memories they want to hide because they can’t stand to look at them every day.”

Molly nods. “Can I at least ask how old these are?”

Caleb turns his eyes away and thinks for a moment. He puts his finger on one scar. “This is the oldest. Seventeen years.” Then he points to a spot on his other arm, hidden beneath the bandages. “Youngest. Sixteen years.”

A sickened sensation prickles in Molly’s stomach similar to the one he feels when he looks at his own glaive scar. His tail coils close to his back. “All these happened _over the course of a year_? Oh, sweetheart.” There are so many other questions he has now. Who did this to Caleb? Why? What made them stop? Is this why Caleb is so broken? There’s one question that he can’t hold back. “Do you need a hug? I know you’re not big on physical contact, but— _Gods_ , I feel like you need a hug. Is that alright?”

“Uh…” Caleb scratches at his bandages. His shoulders bunch.

“It’s okay if you don’t want one, but the offer is on the table.”

Caleb scratches quietly for another moment. He closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath and relaxes as he lets it out. “ _Ja. Ja_ , a hug would be…alright.”

Molly wants to scoop Caleb into his arms, comfort him, thank him for sharing this information because it must be so hard for him to talk about. Instead he lets Caleb come to him. He takes one step in Caleb’s direction with his arms out to beckon him, but then he simply waits. Caleb shuffles forward, fingernails still digging under the bandages to scratch at his arm. He hesitantly leans into Molly’s chest. Molly wraps one arm around Caleb’s waist and the other up around his back to grip him by the shoulder. The charm hanging from Molly’s horn jingles softly as Caleb rests his head in the crook of Molly’s neck. He holds Molly with one hand and lets the other hang loosely at his side.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Molly murmurs.

Caleb balls the hand on Molly’s back into a fist. “ _Danke_.”

Molly kisses the side of Caleb’s head then disengages from the embrace. Caleb maintains his grip for half a second before stepping away as well. He immediately wraps his arm back up. Molly stands and watches silently. Caleb winds the bandages with such ease that Molly wonders if he has been doing this for sixteen years, or if there was a time before he thought to cover them when he got that nauseous jolt in his stomach every time he saw them.

“If you do ever feel like talking about it,” Molly says, “you know where to find me. I won’t judge and I won’t tell another soul.”

“I—” Caleb’s mouth hangs open with his unspoken response. Molly can read his face. Caleb might be highly closed off and try to hide his feelings most of the time, but there is no mistaking the conflicted look in his eyes, the battle between fear and trust.

Molly smiles. “Yeah yeah, you don’t have to. But again, the offer is on the table. You could take it now, tomorrow, in a couple years, whenever you feel comfortable.”

Caleb closes his mouth and nods. “Thank you, Mollymauk. Maybe someday but…not now.”

“Mind if I tell you about mine?”

“I know where you got yours.” Gods, the melancholy in Caleb’s face is too much. Molly wants to hug him again.

“Well, can I tell you a secret about it? Fair exchange?”

Caleb blinks at him. “I…suppose, if you would like to.”

Molly swallows. “Sometimes it _does_ hurt. I’ve had…bad dreams about that day, and when I wake up it’s like this is fresh.” He puts his hand to his chest as though trying to stop the bleeding. “I hate it. I hate it so much and there’s nothing I can do about it and I hate _that_ too. These scars—” he traces his fingers over the lines on his neck and the exposed part of his shoulders, “—are ones I can control. I did this to myself, and while using my powers doesn’t feel great either at least they’re _mine_. This… It’s like he left a part of himself in me. I know he’s dead — thank you again for that, by the way — but what he did will never go away because it’s always _here_ and it’s _not_ mine and it’s like I’m…tainted. Forever.” He lashes his tail and curls his lip in a snarl. “I _hate_ it.”

Caleb is trembling, barely noticeable but it’s worse in his hands. “ _Ja_ , I understand. The…The man who gave me these is still out there. He might be doing this to other people, I don’t know. But I understand. Mine hurt too, when I wake up from nightmares. When I am scared or something reminds me of…back then, they feel raw. Covering them up doesn’t help, but at least no one else can see them and ask about them, make me relive what happened.” He bows his head. Molly catches the sight of pink around the edges of his eyes.

“…Would you like another hug?”

Caleb sniffles. He nods. This time Molly goes to him, because _fuck_ he needs this hug as much as Caleb does. He tenderly holds Caleb to him and rubs his back to soothe him and comfort himself. At the same time he’s sick with dread. Caleb has had his scars for seventeen years and the pain hasn’t gone away. Will Molly feel the same way for the rest of his life? Then again, the rest of his life might only be a few years, if not a few months. Still, he doesn’t want to spend that whole time trying to scratch the memories away.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Caleb says.

Molly chuckles softly. “Thank you, darling.” He strokes Caleb’s hair, cautious at first in case he’s going too far beyond Caleb’s boundaries. Caleb, however, leans just a little bit harder into Molly, so Molly continues.

They stand there holding each other for a minute or two. Caleb is the one to step away. He clears his throat. “I— I am glad we had this talk,” he says with a nod.

“Me too. If you ever want to have another one…”

Caleb smiles, that subtle, barely there yet so sweet smile. “I know where to find you.”

Molly smiles back. He leans in and pushes up on his toes to kiss Caleb on the forehead. Caleb dips his head to allow it. “Time for that later,” Molly says. “Now let’s get back to the others before they eat everything without us.”

The thought of Caleb’s scars hangs heavy in Molly’s heart. Someday Caleb might tell him more. Maybe they’ll even hunt down the person who did that to him the way Caleb and the others hunted down Lorenzo. It would be a good way to repay Caleb for what he did. But as Molly said, there will be time for that later. Tonight, Caleb and Molly cover their scars and think of better things, like how neither of them feels so alone anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leaves kudos and comments, and if you want to support my work even more you can find me on Ko-fi under the same name!


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